Hatred Is Blind, Almost As Blind As Love
by youaddthecolour
Summary: It's the academic year following the Battle of Hogwarts and the death of many, more than is realised. Hermione is left broken and can't be consoled by her friends. But can she be consoled by the person she's meant to hate? Surely not. And as a new darkness looms, not all is as it seems. Really bad summary, I know. Title taken from an Oscar Wilde quote.
1. Ha, Stupid

**Hermione's POV**

I always thought that, when the time came, my heart would know. Deep down, I thought that my heart would be wise enough to understand what had just occurred, and would tell me.

I thought wrong.

I was stupid. I should have known that He would find them. I should have known that, soon enough, my enchantments would wear off and they would realise who they were. Soon enough. The problem is I did know, however I was naïve enough to think that He would just let them go. Ha. Stupid. He didn't have mercy.

My Dad made a wooden swing for me that hung limply over the long, sturdy branch that protruded from the tall, wide oak tree in the back garden when I was five years old. I vividly remember the creaking sound it made when I applied weight to the seat. But it never faltered. Always swinging, always creaking. I sat on it every day from the day it was made. When I came to Hogwarts, I used my magic to create an identical swing in my common room that only I could see, that only I could hear. It was never the same. As much as I loved Hogwarts, I was always excited to come home for Summer and Christmas, just to sit on it again, and feel the breeze rush through my bushy long hair like I had never left.

I was a lonely child. My closest friends were my books, and I was always happy for their company. I remember one day in particular, sitting on the swing as it made its casual creaking noise. I had just been on my very first trip to Diagon Alley, and had one of my pristine new books sitting on my lap, eager for me to open the front cover and explore its contents. I was just as eager, so I hurriedly, yet gently, opened the cover to reveal the front page.

_Wizards And Witches Of Our Century_

_By Jemima Liskwing_

I flipped over to the letter _H _and put the book flat on my lap. I closed my eyes and imagined my own name there. I imagined Miss Liskwing scrawling my successes and achievements down as if her life depended on it. This was the type of childhood that I led. I lived on hope, and my hope lived on knowledge, books and exams. When I finally opened my eyes and arrived back to reality, the first name I saw inscribed on the crisp page struck me.

_Harry James Potter (commonly known as 'The Boy Who Lived')_

_Funny_, I remember thinking, but not in a laugh out loud kind of way. _Funny_, as in, _curious. _I read the page about how his parents died in Godric's Hollow ten years ago. About how He Who Must Not Be Named tried to kill him too. About how he now lived with his Aunt and Uncle. About how he had an iconic lightening bolt scar etched into his forehead. On the following page there was a picture. I read the caption below it.

_Mr Potter doing muggle chores, unaware of his true identity as a wizard. He resides in Number 4, Privet Drive, Surrey._

Suddenly, a noise above me said, "Book-worming, again Granger?" I didn't need to look up to know who it was. Shelby Crailsby. Before I could reply, I was looking down at an empty pair of hands. My eyes widened.

"Crailsby you give that back!" I yelled, standing up, flailing my arms around in vain in an attempt to get the book back. She ignored me, laughing.

"Oooh, who's Harry Potter, your girlfriend?" she said, laughing hysterically. This distracted her, giving me an opportunity to grab the book out of her arms, and shut it tight behind my back. I began to walk away.

"You should know better Granger! I bet you'll never even have a friend let alone meet this Harry Potter person. Dream. On!" she yelled before walking away. I stood still, petrified yet shaking violently. I brought the book round to my middle and opened it up. I placed my arms below it with my hands at the top, lightly pressing the bottom of it into my stomach. I looked at his picture. Green eyes, messy black hair, round glasses. I knew I'd never meet him, but, in my heart, I had hope.

Then, a week or two later, I found myself face to face with him on the Hogwarts express. I knew they'd all been wrong about me. Especially Shelby Crailsby.

I knew that, after the Battle of Hogwarts, I should find them. Bring them home. Unwind the spell and hold them as if they never left. I thought back to the day I did it. I knew I had to. I knew I was doing the right thing. I remembered the day I told Harry what I'd done.

"_I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me - or you, because unfortunately, I've told them quite a bit about you. Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't - well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see."_

It was a week after the Battle of Hogwarts that I discovered their fate. I'd told Kingsley, who was the new Minister of Magic after Pius had died and Voldemort had been defeated, about what I'd done to protect my Mum and Dad, and subsequently he promised to do everything in his power to find them. He kept his word. Five days after I'd come to him, he had come to me at the Burrow (where I was temporarily staying until I planned to be reunited with my parents) and he told me he had some information, and so we apparated to their house in Australia. What awaited my eyes wasn't a house, it was the remains of a house. For the life of me I couldn't remember where I'd seen the likes of it before. But it hit me eventually. It was in the same state as an identical house in Godric's Hollow. The Potter's house. Kingsley didn't have to say anything after that. It was literally staring at me in the face and I knew what had happened.

When we returned to the Burrow, Kingsley explained when the event happened to all of us; Harry, Ron, Ginny, George, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and me. They didn't know what had happened, but they knew it was the same night Harry and I visited Godric's Hollow, the graveyard, and were confronted with Nagini disguised as Bathilda Bagshot. And they knew it was Voldemort. We sat there, listening, with Ron's arm wrapped around me and my head leaning on his shoulder. It was at that moment I knew that I had an amazing friend in him, but it was the first time since the kiss in the Chamber of Secrets that I realised I didn't love him as much as I thought it did. I felt awful of course, but I knew he would always remain one of my best friends. And of course, there was Harry.

But the one person who truly helped me through it all is someone who I thought I would always hate. But, in the words of Oscar Wilde, hatred is blind, almost as blind as love. I learned that the hard way. Returning to Hogwarts the year after the battle was definitely emotional and a hard choice to make, but I loved school so much that I couldn't bare the thought of not completing my 7 years there. But without returning, I wouldn't be who I am now, and this story would have no meaning. Because I wouldn't be here.

I wouldn't have grown to love the one person who could help me if I hadn't gone back. Without the one person who helped me to recover from the war, to change my life around and to make me a better person, I would have died. So I suppose I have to thank my parents. Everything happens for a reason, and as one door closes, another must open. Their sacrifice was what kept me living. But I can't help thinking I should have stopped it. I really thought that they would live to see their grandchildren laugh, but instead my children hear stories about their Grandma and Grandpa who gave themselves up for my happiness.

I thought that, on the 24th of December of one of the darkest years of my life, I would know. I thought that on the worst day of my life, I would have a small inkling that something wasn't right.

I thought that, on the day that Monica and Wendell Wilkins - my Mum and Dad - were face to face with Voldemort, I would be there to save them.

Ha. Stupid.


	2. Humanity

**A/N: Was really happy to get some feedback from your guys about the Prologue! It really meant a lot :') I'm going to update as often as possible, I promise! I'd love to hear more from you guys as the story progresses, so don't forget to keep reviewing! This one's kind of short, but I promise there will be longer ones on their way ****J**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. Harry Potter belongs to the genius that is J.K. Rowling x]**

**Hermione's POV**

_Three more days until I'm home,_ I thought to myself as Ginny, Harry, Ron, and I wandered the streets of Diagon Alley searching for school supplies. After Harry and Ron had initially decided not to return to Hogwarts for their final year, the deaths of my Mum and Dad had convinced them that they needed to stay with me. I'd object at first, arguing that they had to do what was right for their future and that I would have Ginny. But when they pointed out that I would have to deal with the Golden Trio fantasia by myself as well as my deceased parents if they didn't come, I agreed. And at that moment, walking down Diagon Alley with the three of them, I realised how glad I was that I wouldn't be spending my last year at Hogwarts without my two best friends.

Diagon Alley still hadn't fully recovered from Voldemort's terror. Madam Malkin, being the stubborn witch she was, kept her shop open throughout the war and refused to close it. Seeing as she was an expert in magical fabrics she managed to disguise her shop to make it look run down and worthless. Eeylops opened a few days previously when they had a sufficient stock of owls and a shop that was in the correct conditions for them. Ollivander had reopened his shop immediately after he had been discharged from St Mungo's following the war, determined to resume is love of wandlore and presenting young wizards and witches with their constant magical companion.

"_The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Granger." _

I smiled at the memory of receiving my wand. The feeling that rushed through me the second I gripped the handle of the wand.

"_Ten and three quarter inches long, vine wood, with a dragon heartstring core. I trust you are a smart witch; a dragon's heart is known for choosing the intelligent and great witch or wizard."_

"So, Flourish & Blotts first?" Harry suggested, snapping me out of my longing for Hogwarts. I kept my eyes on the ground though. Previous years in Diagon Alley I had relished walking through the shop in question, testing the quills and breathing in the scent of new parchment eagerly waiting to words spilled on it.

"Yea sure, but afterwards can we stop at Fortescue's? I'm so hungry!" Ron exclaimed, scanning the rows of shops to find the famous ice cream parlour.

"You're always hungry," Ginny said, making Harry and I laugh.

"Did 'Mione and I tell you that the first thing he asked us last year when we were looking for the Horcruxes was where the nearest chip van was?" Harry asked Ginny, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Things worked out between them, and now the two couldn't be happier. I smiled and them and laughed at the memory. Ron rolled his eyes but couldn't help to join in.

As we entered Flourish & Blotts, I regained a part of me that I had lost over the past year. Scanning the shelves, I began to collect the books on my list.

As I searched, I noticed that there were many copies of Jemima Liskwing's book. Pulling it down off the shelf, I realised it was the same edition that I bought all those years ago in 1991. Inside the front cover there was a message:

"_Dearest Rhoda, you have dreams, and that's what makes your future. Don't listen to the world if they tell you you'll never make it, and especially not that sister of yours. They're wrong. Don't give up. Yours forever, Jem xx"_

I smiled at my dreams of being written about. Deep down, I still had those dreams. But I had matured since then, and I knew that it only truly matters that I know my achievements. With a sigh I put it back and resumed my search.

All of the books on my list were easy to find, except for the last one.

_Advanced Runes_

_By Pemerthus Gremlyn_

"Hermione, you ready?" Harry asked. I looked around at him from where I was standing.

"Not yet, but go on ahead to Fortescue's. I'll just get this book and some quills, parchment and ink and I'll meet you there," I said, smiling. He nodded and turned to leave. Just before I heard him shut the door, an unmistakable scoff emerged from him. Too preoccupied with the Runes book, I kept my eyes on the countless books. After several minutes of searching, I found it, but as I placed my hand over the binding, another did the same. Startled, I gripped tighter, pulled the book from the shelf and turned to face the other person.

"Malfoy?" I said, shocked to find him in this shop of all places.

"You were always one for pointing out the obvious, Granger," he replied sourly. I rolled my eyes.

"I didn't know they were allowing ferrets to repeat their last year," I said defensively. Then it hit me. "You're doing Runes? But you didn't do Runes as one of your O.W.L.s!" He took my moment of confusion as an advantage to take the book from me. He smirked and walked up to the counter, throwing the book down onto it along with the other books he was buying and several galleons and knuts.

"Really Granger I thought you were meant to be smart," he said to me. I narrowed my eyes. He was always impossible. After he had paid, he picked up his bag and strode confidently out the door. "And, yes, I am repeating. Although you can't really talk; ferrets are much more like magic folk than mudbloods." That hit me hard. Harder than it usually did. It was the first time that I'd been called that since the war, and therefore since my parents died. He laughed to himself and walk out the door with his head held high. Too stunned to ask about the book, I turned around, picked up a few quills, pieces of parchment and a new ink pot, and paid at the counter. I walked out the door, and without even thinking walked towards Gringotts, before turning off into one of the narrow alleyways. Once I was sure I was out of sight, I closed my eyes and thought of my parents; the times we laughed, our trips to Shaftsbury Avenue and to the theatre in London, the creaking swing. Then I raised my wand.

"Expecto Patronum," I whispered. As my otter came into view, I gave it a message for Ginny telling her that I went back to the Burrow. I opened my eyes just as it swam out of sight. The tears began to fall, and I knew I had to be truly alone to let them fall freely. I faced the dark end of the alleyway and walked towards it, spinning on the spot when I was almost there and leaving Diagon Alley.

What I failed to notice in my haste to leave was the hooded figure hiding in the shadows near me, their cloak billowing behind them in the wind as they swept off to their destination.


	3. The Ghost House

**A/N: BEFORE YOU KILL ME, I know I haven't updated in ages, and I'm so sorry, but it's long just like I promised ;)**

**Okay so I should probably explain something before you read this next chapter. I originally intended to put the whole story in Hermione's point of view, but I realised this wasn't going to work for every chapter. So the majority of the chapters will be in our favourite heroine's brilliant mind (hehe:3), and these chapters will be headed with "Hermione's POV" (but just to clarify, this one isn't in her point of view) :] Again, thanks for the reviews! :D**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. Harry Potter belongs to the genius that is J.K. Rowling x]**

Running. All Riley could think about was running. Running and dodging the random trees that she knew like the back of her hand. After all, she had been there plenty of times before. It was what they'd been waiting for ever since His fall, and she knew her partner in crime couldn't wait to hear the news. It could be their only chance, and she wanted to make this one count after failing him last time. As an inside source for her master, Riley was aware of what was going on in a certain young witch's life, and what she had just witnessed down the alleyway of Diagon Alley was proof of her vulnerability because of it. As she continued to run the trees in the forest began to part and reveal a clearing. At the centre of the clearing was a round house, not unlike Hagrid's hut. It was a small, run-down, aged, wooden house. It was a curious thing; if she wasn't looking for it, the house in question would have been like a ghost house that no one notices until they are intentionally searching for its whereabouts. Riley skidded to a halt as she approached the door. Removing her wand from inside her cloak she pointed it's tip at the lock.

"Alohamora," she said, her tone panicked and her breathing heavy. As the lock moved she pushed the door open the rest of the way and slammed it shut behind her. With her back against it, she breathed heavily for a few seconds and placed her hand on her forehead. She then stood up straight, composed herself, and walked towards the middle of the room. The room itself mirrored the outside appearance of the house. The walls were plain, the windows seemed normal enough, but the floor was something else. There were no stones or wooden planks. A moving map stretched from wall to wall, divided into several sections, each representing a different area of the wizarding world. Riley had never seen it before, so, intrigued by this magic, she walked towards the centre of it and observed the swirling clouds covering pretty much all of the sections.

"You have news, I hope," a deep voice said. Composed, Riley turned her head to the window. A figure stood there, facing the window in dark clothes. Latched around his shoulders was a hooded cloak. His voice clearly indicated he was a man, and this man's name was Ghost. Putting all curiosities regarding the map to one side, she smirked and took a step closer.

"You know me too well," she remarked.

"Tell me," he demanded, "is the girl at her weakest?"

"She is certainly weak, but I am positive there is room for…" she began, "…improvement." The man turned his head slightly towards her, just so that she could make out the squareness of his chin in the moonlight shining through the window behind him.

"Then what is on your mind child! Pray, don't make me linger on curiosity." Riley cleared her throat.

"The girl's parents-"

"-are dead, yes. Tell me something I have not been aware of for months," he interrupted, snapping. There was a pause, then she proceeded to continue.

"You are aware of our various surveyors in the vicinity of Diagon Alley?" This received a slight twitch, which placed a confused expression on Riley's face, but she took it as a yes. "They have done their duty."

"Don't try my patience; tell me what has brought you here before I body bind you!"

"They say that Draco Malfoy is returning to Hogwarts," she sad quickly. Ghost froze. Even the wind that gave life to his clothing seem to halt its whispers. He turned his head back to face the window and stood, as if waiting for something.

"For what purpose?" he said finally.

"Purely academic. The boy's father prohibited it, but I have managed to persuade him to accept the boy's wishes-"

"And what good does that do for us?!" he bellowed, turning around to face Riley. His face was like paper; white and creased. His eyes were missing pupils and colour, giving the blankness of his face emphasis. His black robes were in tact and reasonably neat, however a rip in his clothing revealed a scar running down from the meeting point of his neck and right shoulder diagonally across his torso towards his waist. He didn't wear shoes and stood bare foot, and upon turning around his hood fell backwards to reveal long, black hair that was tied at the nape of his neck and fell to his ribs. He continued to shout. "The Malfoy boy returns to Hogwarts to pass his N.E.W.T.s; what good will that do for my purpose?! His father is nothing but a coward, abandoning the Dark Lord after Potter rose from the dead a second time!" His voice echoed throughout the room. Riley's eyes moved to the floor. He lowered his voice yet he didn't lose the dark and threatening tone in it. "I was there the day of his fall. I escaped the clutches of Hogwarts and made my plans, and even you have yet to impress me. You claimed the post of Potions teacher and Head of Slytherin house in that wretched school yet you have failed to present any useful knowledge. With that sister of yours what will you do? Her surveillance will almost certainly focus on you, now that she is aware of your past-"

"Draco has accepted your task, Master," she interrupted, returning her eyes to him. He took a step towards her. He didn't seem to care that she had interrupted him (for once).

"On what grounds?"

"That he can go to Hogwarts to complete his studies…"

Her master waited for more.

"…and to be left alone after he has completed the task." Ghost scoffed.

"Trust me, neither of us will have much choice in the matter." He turned around again and there was a pause. "Summon him."

"Master I doubt-"

"SUMMON HIM!" he yelled, more demanding this time. He gave her a poisoned glare through his moonlit reflection in the window. "You doubt my judgement?"

It was a rhetorical question. He knew perfectly well that Riley Williams was far too timid to challenge a man like him. Frozen by his second outburst since the question of Draco Malfoy was raised, Riley nodded and proceeded to the portrait on the opposite wall. She carefully avoided the strange map and stood in front of the portrait of Bellatrix Lestrange.

As a member of the Black family by blood, Lestrange had been entitled to a portrait upon her death since the day she was born. As revenge for those who had died under the wrath of Voldemort and his followers the picture was moved to an isolated place and supposedly destroyed. But no one can defeat the magic of the dead. As for the second portrait that Lestrange could travel to, it had been stolen and smuggled back to Malfoy Manor by Narcissa Malfoy as a tribute to her deceased sister. Riley was unaware of how Ghost had come across the portrait he possessed. But the picture was there, and there was nothing Lestrange loathed more than running errands for her new master and the Malfoys. However it was the only thing she was capable of doing, so the reality was that she didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Summon Draco Malfoy here. The master wishes to speak with him," Riley said, her voice shaking slightly. Even the presence of a dead Bellatrix sent shivers down her spine. The figure in the portrait made a face.

"With pleasure," she said sarcastically, sauntering and muttering to herself into the darkness away from Riley as she did so. Looking down at her feet, Riley attempted to regain her composure. Looking round at her master again, she wondered whether to speak or stay silent. She knew that if she made a wrong move by talking she wouldn't be given any second chances.

On the other hand silences between her and Ghost were too awkward and chilling for her to bare.

"My Lord-"

"Don't use that word for me. That word forever belongs to Lord Voldemort and to none other," he said quietly. But it was the quietest words from him that scared Riley the most.

"Very well Master," she said quickly. "What is this map?"

This question seemed to surprised him. He turned on his heel and looked at Riley quizzically. After a few seconds, he smirked and strode confidently to the middle of the map. His sudden change from hostility to confidence surprised Riley. Shaking it off, she fully turned around to face him.

"This, child, is the Map of Erised."

Riley found it hard at this point not to raise her eyebrow. The Map of Erised? Aware of her thoughts, Ghost continued.

"It comes from the same magic as the mirror that goes by the same name. With the same idea and concept, this map shows the Wizarding World in its entirety, and illustrates the desires of each witch or wizard. For example right now I see thunder. Thunder raging throughout the land. This is because the forces that allow mudbloods to roam free are still in power. The thunder represents anger. You see it to?"

Riley's view of the map still resembled the swirling clouds that she saw before, however for all she knew her vision of the map could mean her death. With no idea about what the two images meant, she replied, "Yes Master."

At that very moment Bellatrix appeared at the portrait with three others behind him. They were almost scared to look at her, except for one, who's eyes studied her with pity and guilt.

"The Malfoys," Bellatrix said mockingly, doing a sarcastic curtsy, stumbling slightly as she bent down. The portrait hole opened, and Lucius Malfoy stepped through, took a few steps away from the portrait and stopped, his head bent as he took great interest in his feet. Behind him, Narcissa Malfoy, who was still looking at her deceased sister apologetically. Behind them, Draco.

"Draco, come," the Master said, slowly stretching out his arm and curling his fingers over, beckoning him forward. Draco paused for a moment, before obeying and walking towards the middle of the map where the two figures stood. "You have accepted the task?"

Silently, Draco nodded, before his mother chipped in.

"Master this task…" she said hurriedly, before pausing slightly, nervous to continue. "…is it necessary? I mean Draco won't get…hurt, will he?"

"Mother stop it, I'm a grown man and I can look after myself for Merlin's sake," Draco snapped. Narcissa looked around worriedly at her only son and nodded, before walking back to Lucius. The Master looked at Draco, then at Narcissa, and then back at the former. "What must I do to complete this task? What must I do to be left alone?"

"You were the last rightful owner of the Elder Wand before Potter disarmed you that night in Malfoy Manor, correct?"

"Apparently. I don't see what that has to do with anything though. The Elder Wand was destroyed by Potter himself."

"Yes. But every cloud has its silver lining," Ghost said, smirking.

He swept around and walked towards the window he had been previously standing in front of. He reached into the cabinet situated below it, and retrieved a case. A wand case. Keeping it concealed inside his cloak, Ghost strode back towards Draco, who was looked at Ghost with a confused expression, and presented him with the case. Draco eyes moved from the chilling face to the mysterious case, before he opened the lid. Laid in the velvety lining of the box was the Elder Wand in its two halves. Expressionless, Draco closed it again, and laughed quietly.

"What do you expect me to do, fix it?" Draco said, slightly amused with the knowledge that he didn't have the power to do such a thing to the most powerful wand in the history of the Wizarding World, let alone his plain and simple wand which had difficulty transforming a toad into a coin purse.

"Indirectly, yes," he said, unamused. Draco raised his eyebrows.

"To full working order?"

"Eventually." Ghost paused, out-staring Draco. "Your humour puzzles me."

"I'm just baffled as to why you think a teenage wizard like me will be able to perform such a demanding task," he said.

"You said it yourself; you owned the Elder Wand."

"Key word _'owned'_," Bellatrix muttered under her breath, cackling to herself. Ghost shot daggers at her portrait.

"The key word, _Bella_, I think you'll find, is 'indirectly'," Ghost said. Turning to Draco, he continued, "You have an agile and sly mind Draco, arguably the reason why Voldemort picked you to murder the greatest wizard of all time, which you failed. Severus, however, did not."

"What is your point, Ghost?" Draco said tiredly, sick of his mind games.

"You cannot perform. The past has made that clear. However you can manipulate. You cannot put aside guilt and morals, however you can convince people to do so. In this case, one of your classmates. I speak in metaphor when I say, you can transform a toad into a coin purse, but without her help the purse will remain empty."

"You're saying I have to befriend someone at Hogwarts to fix the Elder Wand?"

"'The brightest witch of her age', I believe she is known as." Draco's eyes widened.

"You cannot be serious."

"And not only the brightest witch of her age," he continued, ignoring Draco's comment, "but also a close associate of Harry Potter himself."

"Her of all people?!" Draco said, his voice becoming louder.

"I want you to befriend Hermione Jean Granger."


	4. Everything's Changed

**A/N: So this is a short one, I wanted a cliffhanger-ish ending (if that makes sense?), so the next chapter will be longer. I WILL update soon, I have a few exams coming up when I get back to school in January but I'm on holiday until the 7th so I should have a lot more free time than I usually do. R+R please! I would love some feedback from you guys!**

**Hermione's POV  
**

I stepped to one side to face the brick wall that was the gateway to everything that I held dear, and smiled. I looked down at the shiny red Head Girl badge I had attached to my dark blue jumper and caressed it with my hand, keeping the other on the handle. I'd always dreamed about being Head Girl, and I was excited to learn who my fellow Head Boy would be. It wasn't Harry or Ron, I knew that much, but I sort of hoped that it would be Neville. He saved my life, and Ron's. He deserved the honour of being Head Boy.

"Hey, 'Mione, wake up," Harry said, placing a hand on my shoulder and smiling. I smiled back at him, let go of my badge, and focused on the wall ahead. Gripping tightly onto the handle of my trolley, I shut my eyes and sped forward towards my home. Upon hearing the sound of that all too familiar train whistle, I opened my eyes and sighed. The sign dangling from the brick wall reading 9 ¾ swayed in the breeze of latecomers rushing to get their luggage on board and find an empty compartment. The sounds of screeching owls echoed in the platform. It was as if nothing had changed.

"_But of course everything's changed." _

I remembered what I had said to Harry that day in the woods during our hunt for the Horcruxes.

But the most distinguished and vibrant element of the gateway to Hogwarts was the train itself, glistening in the light of the morning sun. I shook off threatening tears that knew what would await at the end of the railway line. Emotional, and physical, destruction.

Taking a deep breath I joined Harry, Ron and Ginny, who had just emerged from the wall and were presently making their way towards the back of the train to load their luggage.

I hadn't told them about what Malfoy had said in Flourish & Blotts. I had to convince myself not to dwell on it. If I had mentioned it to any of them I would never be able to escape it (only because they worry about me too much). Besides, I knew what they'd say;

"_What a prat!"_

"_You're worth more than that ferret 'Mione!"_

I'd heard it all before - the last thing I needed was to hear it again.

We boarded the train, accompanied by Ron's comment on the first year's getting smaller. I laughed, determined not to let my anger at the world get the better of me.

"That's probably what Hagrid says every year," I retorted jokingly.

"Where as Flitwick on the other hand…" Ginny added, and we entered our compartment laughing to each other. For the first time since I made to decision to repeat my seventh year I felt relaxed, boarding the train that would take me to Hogwarts. I pushed my bag onto the racks about the seats and settled in a spot by the window.

As Harry slid the compartment door shut Malfoy himself sauntered down the corridor with a profound dignity only seen in people who had just achieved a great feat (the nature of which I didn't know at the time). He slowed down slightly when he noticed who was in our cabin. His eyes found mine. I was preparing myself to turn my nose up at him following the smirk which was sure to come, however it didn't. Instead he smiled at me. A genuine, amiable, friendly smile. He looked like he was about to wave at me, however he must have decided against it, as his hand rose to his chest and then fell again. He walked off, maintaining his dignity. The raven-haired boy was so stunned that he hadn't even noticed that he was trapping his hands in the gap between the door and the doorframe.

"Ah!" Harry hissed as the impending collision occurred, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking on it. "Since when did Malfoy become so friendly?"

"Never mind that, Merlin knows what he's up to! The real question is since when did Malfoy decide to come back?!" Ron exclaimed, as Harry sat down beside Ginny, shaking his hand in the air to get rid of the pain. I wasn't really paying attention. I'd noticed something else.

"I saw him in Diagon Alley in Flourish & Blotts," I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the door. Ron, who was sitting beside me, stared at me in horror.

"What? Why was he there? What did he buy? Did he talk to you? Did he threaten you? He did didn't he? He threatened you! I swear to Merlin I will get my hands on that little sh-"

"RON! SHUT UP!" Ginny yelled at her brother, making him sink back into his seat and his ears turn a dark scarlet colour. Looking at me, Ginny spoke in a quieter pitch.

"'Mione what's wrong?" I was shaking slightly at this point.

"He's wearing the badge," I whispered. I groaned before putting my head in my hands. Only Harry understood what I meant.

"Merlin's beard. Are you sure?" he said, almost as shocked as I was.

"What badge?" Ron and Ginny asked at the same moment. I lifted my head and looked at the window. The train had started to move, and for miles along the platform parents were waving goodbye to their children and blowing them kisses. This made me want to cry even more. How was I supposed to put up with this with everything else distracting me? I put my elbow on the small table in front of me attached to the window and rested the side of my head in the palm of my hand.

"Draco Malfoy is Head Boy."


End file.
